


March 2018

by babybrotherdean



Series: 365 challenge: 2018 [3]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-03-25 22:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 19,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13844292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: Collection of 365 challenge ficlets for the month of March.





	1. Sixty: Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So can I finally start calling you an old man?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Jensen's birthday. :>

“So can I finally start calling you an old man?”

Jared can’t seem to stop grinning, and Jensen rolls his eyes, settling back in his chair to take another sip of coffee. It’s still early in the morning, and birthday or no birthday, he needs his caffeine to function for the next few hours. “You already do that. And forty is hardly old.”

“It’s ten years from fifty, which is halfway to one hundred.” Jared pulls a serious face, though by the way his mouth is twitching, he’s struggling to maintain it. “You’re pretty much a senior citizen now, Jensen. I bet you’ll get all kinds of discounts for early dinner.”

Jensen kicks him under the table, and it makes Jared laugh, letting up on his expression. “Shut up. I’m not the one who’s already going grey, grandpa.”

“Hey, I make grey look damn good.” With a huff, Jared pushes his chair away from the table, standing up. “If you keep up with the attitude, you’re not getting any birthday sex. Absolutely none.”

“No birthday sex?” Jensen cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve been hyping up the birthday sex all week. You said something about rose petals? Candles? Sexy underwear?”

Jared squints at him. “I’ve still got all my receipts. Maybe they’ll be somebody else’s sexy underwear.”

“Consider me warned.” Jensen laughs into his coffee, setting the mug aside a moment later. “C'mere. I want my birthday ‘good morning’ kiss.”

Jared stays where he is for a moment, rocking on his heels, but he breaks into a smile before long, closing the distance between them and leaning down to press his lips to Jensen’s, soft and chaste. “Happy birthday,” he mumbles between them, and Jensen just hums, one hand coming up to catch in his shirt as he starts to straighten up again. “And I was just messing with you. I wouldn’t return the sexy underwear.”

Jensen laughs again, finally letting Jared go so he can head off and get ready for the day. “Good. I’ve built up some pretty lofty expectations, y'know.”

With a wink, Jared disappears in the direction of the bathroom, and Jensen settles back once more, picking up his mug with a smile so he can finish his coffee before he gets himself up and moving. 

So far, forty is looking pretty damn good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	2. Sixty-One: Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has spent his entire life around dragons, but none of it- none of it prepares him for meeting Jared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dragon au! It's backstory this time. They meet and stuff :O

Jensen has spent his entire life around dragons. He knows their life cycles forwards and back, and can cobble together an incubation space for a dragon’s egg with just about anything. He’s been trained on how to handle them, how to raise them, how to care for them until they’re old enough to care for themselves, but none of it- none of it prepares him for meeting Jared.

It’s his first up-close encounter with a wild dragon, and it’s far from what he ever thought to imagine. Domesticated dragons are typically bonded with humans as early as possible, and are almost always highly receptive to human contact. While not always friendly, they’re open and curious, and with the training and experience that Jensen has under his belt, it’s no problem to approach them, strangers or otherwise. Among everything else he’s learned, though, is that wild dragons should not be approached under any circumstances. They’re dangerous, erratic, often aggressive; many of them actively seek out and kill humans, and attempting any sort of contact will likely end in injury or death.

Despite all of that, when Jensen comes across a wide gash in the earth during a hike out towards the mountains, he can’t quite help the curiosity that leads him to follow it. Trees have been torn up from the ground in the wake of whatever caused the damage, and Jensen’s better judgement tells him he ought to turn and walk away, but something keeps driving him forward, breath coming a little short when he finally sets his eyes on what caused it.

The dragon is a hell of a lot bigger than Jensen usually sees, all matte black where it’s slumped in place. It’s moving, barely, like it’s trying to take stock of itself, and from where Jensen’s standing, he can already see some blood. The dragon’s wings shift and flex, and as Jensen slows down in his approach, it shifts into a more upright position. That seems to be the moment when it realizes it isn’t alone anymore, and its head whips around, golden eyes rooting Jensen to the ground.

Jensen can feel his mouth dry up, but he knows he needs to act. Dragons are extremely intelligent creatures, and if he’s got a chance of getting out of this alive- well. He doesn’t have a lot of options. “Hey, you- you’re hurt.” He braces himself before daring to take a small step forward, trying to ignore the low growl that he’s met with. “I can help you. I’ve got medicine.”

Without looking away, Jensen shrugs his bag off his back, thankful that this particular habit is so deeply ingrained. He pulls his first aid supplies out to show, taking another small step forward while he does. “Can I help? It’ll help you feel better.”

For a few seconds, it seems like the dragon is considering just eating him and being done with it. Maybe this is a stupid thing to do on Jensen’s part, but wild or not, he can’t walk away from a hurt creature like this. He’s in this far already, and there’s no turning back. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Finally, with a small huff, the dragon starts to shift again, lowering itself down to rest on the ground. It doesn’t take its eyes off Jensen, but Jensen takes the cue to move forward, slow and careful like he doesn’t want to startle the beast in front of him. He goes straight to where he sees most of the blood- one of the dragon’s front legs- and crouches down in front of it, sorting out his supplies and getting to work. Just as he’s about to start, though, reaching out to brush his fingertips past the wound to judge how bad it is-

He loses his breath when he makes contact with the dragon’s scales, and everything goes white for a few seconds. It’s like he ceases to exist for that moment, but also like he only now exists for the first time, and like- like he isn’t alone. Like there’s a second heart beating right next to his, strong and familiar.

Jensen’s sitting back in the dirt when he comes to again, blinking the spots out of his eyes and at a total loss for words. It seems like he’s not the only one, either, as he registers the way the dragon has started shifting in front of him, unsettled.

There’s a name, suddenly, that he can put to the creature. Sitting on the tip of his tongue like it’s been waiting there his whole life.

“Jared?”

Jensen’s heard a lot of stories about people meeting their partners, but after making it this far in life, he’s started to believe that it would never happen for him. That maybe he just wasn’t fit for it, or he missed his opportunity somewhere down the way. He never once expected that he would happen upon something like this by chance out in the wild.

Jared’s gathered himself a little by the time Jensen stands up, and then he’s got his nose in Jensen’s space, nudging him and sniffing him all over. The distrustful act from earlier seems to have vanished in favour of confusion and curiosity, and at least now, they’re more or less on the same page.

“Jared,” Jensen repeats softly, and Jared’s nostrils flare out as he huffs. He’s still got a wound to take care of, and Jensen’s got a lot of questions that need answering, and he doesn’t even really know where to begin, but.

“My name’s Jensen.”

Better late than never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	3. Sixty-Two: Relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Guess you haven’t spent a lot of time around humans, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I should just make this its own thing. More dragon AU.

“Guess you haven’t spent a lot of time around humans, huh?”

It’s another hot day, with the sun beating down overhead and not a cloud in the sky. The weather had made it damn hard to resist visiting a small, crystal-clear lake near the village, and Jensen figures it’s a good opportunity to spend some more time with Jared.

Though it’s a common rumour that fire-breathing dragons avoid water altogether, Jensen knows that it’s far from the truth, and Jared is as clear an example as any. He still hasn’t completely opened up yet- it can take years to form a proper bond, and they’re starting much later than most- but he seems at ease today. While Jensen sits at the edge of a dock, letting his feet rest in the cool water, Jared’s taken it upon himself to explore the lake more thoroughly, marching his way right in and settling down, nearly submerging his entire body and raising the water level by a couple feet.

In response to his question, Jared grumbles softly, shifting until he can rest his chin on the dock near where Jensen has seated himself. He looks like he would be happy to fall asleep right there, eyes barely open, and Jensen can’t blame him when a nap sounds as tempting as it does.

“They’re not that bad,” he continues, shifting until he can lay down. He keeps his feet in the water and closes his eyes against the sun overhead, wondering if it’s worth the effort to take off his shirt. “I mean, some of ‘em are, but most of them are okay. Not that you have to spend any time with them if you don’t want to.”

Jared stays quiet that time, so Jensen settles down, too, letting a comfortable silence come over them both. Cicadas hum in the distance, and the wind rustles some nearby trees. Jared’s breathing is soft, and Jensen can feel the warm little puffs against his side, reminding him that he isn’t alone.  

“Maybe we can stay out here a little while,” he says, voice softer now. He’s just about ready to drift off, and it’s not like he’s got anywhere else to be. “Just… relax.”

He doesn’t notice Jared shuffling closer until a warm snout bumps into his side and settles there, just a little bit of extra closeness. Jensen smiles to himself and lets out a breath, ready to rest while he’s got the chance.

It’s a slow going, getting to know Jared, but every extra moment they spend together like this- content and quiet and trusting- it seems to get a little easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. Sixty-Three: Delirious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is blurry. Lights, faces, a white ceiling- none of it really makes sense, chopped into fragments as Dean slips in and out of consciousness. He hears voices, somewhere distant, but it’s like he’s underwater, all the noise around him muffled as it tries to filter its way through to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delirious was the prompt for today, but it didn't really stick to that theme. Oh, well. Brothers.

Everything is blurry. Lights, faces, a white ceiling- none of it really makes sense, chopped into fragments as Dean slips in and out of consciousness. He hears voices, somewhere distant, but it’s like he’s underwater, all the noise around him muffled as it tries to filter its way through to his ears.

Through it all, he gets the sense that he’s floating. His memories of how he ended up here are hazy, but none of it seems terribly important. Nothing hurts here, and he feels warm all over. Like he’s safe from the outside world.

Even as he eventually starts to come back- slowly, reluctantly- some of the feeling lingers. Maybe it’s whatever drug is pumping through his veins, or the white ceiling overhead that makes everything seem just a little bit surreal. More likely, he thinks, it’s the hand that’s holding onto one of his, callous-rough to the touch but gentle in the curl of its fingers.

It’s Sam. Of course it’s Sam, slumped over in a chair by his bedside, looking disheveled and sleep-deprived, even now that he seems to have drifted off. Though Dean is still groggy, he has the presence of mind to be concerned about his little brother, tightening his grip on Sam’s hand minutely when he remembers how to make his body work.

He’s still not entirely sure how he ended up in the hospital, besides some fuzzy memories of their most recent hunt, but instead of trying to figure that out, Dean gives himself a moment to just watch Sam. As much as it sucks to get hurt badly enough to end up in a place like this, he can’t help but be more concerned about the effect it has on his brother; Sam’s no good at taking care of himself during times like this, and Dean finds himself wondering how long he’s been unconscious and how many meals Sam has skipped in the meantime. He’ll have to keep an eye on him for the next little while, at least.

As those thoughts occupy Dean’s mind, Sam begins to stir, his brow knitting together in what Dean suspects is discomfort after having fallen asleep in such an uncomfortable place. Dean keeps quiet, just holding onto Sam’s hand and letting him come to on his own before finally offering a tired smile when Sam manages to get his eyes open.

“Hey, kiddo,” he tries to say, but his mouth is dry and it’s too raspy to really count as words.

It’s enough, though, as Sam seems to wake up all at once, eyes going wide as he scrambles to sit up. “You- Dean.” He swallows hard, and his fingers tighten around Dean’s like he’s afraid something will try to pull him away. “You’re awake.”

There’s a bit of shuffling around as Sam picks up a water bottle off the side table and helps Dean take a drink, and Sam keeps talking the whole time, voice softer now. “Don’t… don’t do that again, okay? Don’t go away like that. You scared me.”

Dean still isn’t entirely sure what he did to end up in this spot, but he nods anyways, happy to agree to whatever Sam wants right now. “Sorry,” he says once he’s had some water, then clears his throat gently. He doesn’t want to linger on the bad parts, the dark circles under Sam’s eyes or the distant, full-body ache that he’s starting to become aware of. All in due time. “So, uh- the nurses here. Any of them super hot?”

And though Sam rolls his eyes at that, he cracks a tiny smile, too, and the mood between them lightens a little. They talk a little longer before the doctor comes by to check in, and Dean thinks to himself that he’s done an okay job so far.

His body will stitch itself back together over time, just like it always has. Making sure that Sam is okay requires a little bit more attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	5. Sixty-Four: Mac and Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prep had been messy, and Dean knows he’s got a bit of a kitchen disaster to deal with once they finish up, but the wide-eyed look of awe on his brother’s face is absolutely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mac and cheese is tasty and I'm still baffled about what gave Dean the idea to put marshmallows into it. Have a soft Weechester thing.

The prep had been messy, and Dean knows he’s got a bit of a kitchen disaster to deal with once they finish up, but the wide-eyed look of awe on his brother’s face is absolutely worth it.

“Marshmallow mac and cheese?” he breathes out, and he can’t seem to decide whether he wants to stare at Dean or the plate he’s been presented with. Dean’s just watching Sam and trying not to smile too big, quietly pleased with the reaction he’s gotten, even though he’d been skeptical about the whole thing from the get-go.

“Yeah. I know you like marshmallows, and you were getting tired of the regular stuff, so…” Dean trails off and shrugs, settling down in his chair and wondering if he should’ve started soaking the pot in water already. He puts that aside to worry about later. “I don’t know how it’s gonna taste, though.”

Almost before he’s done speaking, Sam’s digging in, getting himself a generous forkful of the gooey concoction before him and immediately bringing it into his mouth. His eyes slip shut, and Dean holds his breath in anticipation, but the happy sound that follows allows him to relax.

“S'so goo’,” Sam enthuses, nearly unintelligible with the mouthful of pasta. He swallows quickly, and then there’s a big grin on his face, going in for another bite. “Thanks, De.”

Dean’s left with a matching smile, just watching his brother eat with a warm feeling in his chest. Maybe he can’t give Sam everything he deserves in the world, but at least he give his brother some little treats like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	6. Sixty-Five: Allergies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Basil,” he mumbles, and the cat’s ears flick at him. “What’re you doin’ all the way up here, buddy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering about how Dean figured out he was allergic to cats, and the obvious answer was that he did something adorable and heroic. Like saving a kitty from a tree and sneezing through the whole thing.

It isn’t terribly often, these days, that Dean finds himself walking somewhere by himself. He goes to and from school with Sam, and even running errands often becomes a two-man job for the excuse to spend some time together. It’s just a part of his usual routine, which makes it sort of novel and sort of depressing when his brother joins his school’s soccer team, leaving Dean to walk home by himself three times a week while Sam’s at practice.

It’s on one of those days, walking on his own with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company, that a distressed meow catches Dean’s attention.

Truth be told, he hasn’t spent very much time around cats throughout his life. He’s seen them around, sure- strays that run across the street in the evening, plump house-cats sitting on doorsteps that he spots on his way to and from any given place- but they’ve always been a background fixture rather than an immediate part of his day-to-day functioning. All of that makes him even more curious as he pinpoints the source of the noise- a tree, just off the sidewalk- and his eyes settle on the cat responsible.

It can’t be very old. Dean’s far from an expert, but it doesn’t look the way that adult cats do, not quite grown into its own body yet. It’s tabby-striped in dark shades of brown, and it’s clinging to one of the tree’s branches, looking puffed-up and terrified.

Transfixed, Dean slowly moves closer, stopping when he reaches the base of the tree and the cat meows at him again. It’s looking at him, too, like it’s demanding his attention and assistance, and- aw, hell. He can’t walk away from a face like that.

“Hold on,” he says, shrugging his backpack off and dropping it onto the ground. The tree’s first branch is a few feet up, and not for the first time, Dean’s glad that his dad makes sure they stay in shape. He swings himself up without too much hassle, settling on the branch with a huff while he plans out his route. The cat isn’t terribly high up, and it’s watching him more intently now, claws dug deep into the branch where it’s sitting. With his goal in view, Dean starts moving again, straightening up so he can keep climbing.

Soon enough, he comes eye-to-eye with the cat. Up close, Dean can see that it’s got a collar on, and according to the little tag that dangles off of it-

“Basil,” he mumbles, and the cat’s ears flick at him. “What’re you doin’ all the way up here, buddy?”

Basil doesn’t give him a response, just continuing to stare intently. Dean sighs and focuses once more on the task at hand, making sure he’s got his feet under him properly before reaching out to try to pick up the cat. “Here, kitty. I’m gonna get you down from here, okay?”

It takes a bit of negotiating. Basil isn’t keen on letting go of his branch, and Dean has no intention of climbing down before he’s got the cat safely in his arms. While Dean tries to coax Basil off the branch without getting himself clawed, he becomes aware of a tickling sensation in his nose. It builds slowly, only to come out as a sneeze within a few seconds, starting the cat and causing Dean to grab for a branch to steady himself. Undeterred, Dean gets right back to his mission, taking advantage of Basil’s momentary confusion to scoop him up, pulling him close and cradling him against his chest.

“Alright, easy.” Dean huffs out a short breath, making sure he’s got a good grip on the cat before carefully starting to climb down, one-handed now. “Almost done. Don’t freak out on me.”

As it is, Basil’s claws are already digging into Dean a little bit, leaving pinprick holes in his shirt and scratching lightly at his arms, but Dean doesn’t let it slow him down. More pressingly, he can feel another sneeze building, and he has to turn his head away to make sure he doesn’t scare Basil too badly this time around. It only gets worse as he keeps making his way down, and he can feel pressure building up behind his eyes, too, settling in as a distant headache.

Thankfully, though, none of the sneezing is enough to send Basil running, and he stays right where he is until Dean’s feet touch the ground. He gets a little squirmy after that, and Dean puts him down without complaint, immediately reaching up to rub at his face afterwards.

Basil doesn’t run off quite yet, apparently set on rubbing himself against Dean’s legs before he heads home. It’s kind of nice, but mostly, Dean’s got a sneaking suspicion as to what’s caused all the discomfort and sneezing, and he thinks he’d rather put some space between them now that Basil is safely on the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he huffs out, picking up his backpack. Basil takes another moment to butt his head against Dean’s shin before turning and trotting away, presumably back to wherever he came from. Dean watches him go, then sneezes again, groaning as he rubs at his watering eyes. “Friggin’ cats…”

From that point on, Dean makes an effort to steer clear of cats as best he can manage. He’s not terribly fond of the allergic reaction that comes with being close to them. Still, in hindsight, he can’t quite bring himself to regret helping Basil, allergies or no. It was at least a little bit worth the suffering to do a tiny good deed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3!


	7. Sixty-Six: Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen knows they’re in trouble as soon as he hears the screech of another dragon approaching. There’s no mistaking the aggression in its tone, and out here, flying high over an untamed part of the far reaches of the region, they’re on their own to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dragon AU!

Jensen knows they’re in trouble as soon as he hears the screech of another dragon approaching. There’s no mistaking the aggression in its tone, and out here, flying high over an untamed part of the far reaches of the region, they’re on their own to deal with it.

Jared’s already reacting, slowing down as he pinpoints the source of the noise, and Jensen focusing on staying low, fingers curling tight around the grips on his saddle. With nowhere safe to land within sight, they’ve got no choice but to keep this confrontation in the skies, and he knows that he’s a hindrance to Jared in combat. He can only hope that they get out of this quickly, or that the other dragon leaves them alone.

It doesn’t look like things are going to be that easy as the beast makes itself known, huge and hulking when it begins its approach. It’s bulkier than Jared is, probably stronger but not as fast, which might be the only advantage they’ve got here. It seems that Jared’s on the same train of thought, because instead of immediately turning to engage, he switches course, wings working hard to pick up speed and get them past the threat.

That’s all it takes for the other dragon to start pursuing them, and it quickly becomes a chase; Jared’s greater speed and agility put to the test as the other dragon follows behind them, screeching once more. It should give up quickly, once it figures out this is a losing fight, and Jensen huffs out a relieved breath knowing that they’ll be out of this soon-

Except that it doesn’t give up just yet, and when faced with a faster opponent, it turns to a different sort of strategy than speed alone.

The first shot goes wide, a nasty ball of molten rock that would put a hole through a tree without slowing down. Jensen curses and tightens his grip, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see the other dragon winding up for another, its whole neck glowing hot as it builds up for a second attempt. This time, its eyes are fixed solidly on Jared, and it doesn’t seem like it intends to miss.

It opens its mouth and spits out the projectile at the same time Jared twists hard, a quick maneuver to get himself out of the way. It would’ve worked, too, would’ve been a near miss but for Jensen’s presence and the fact that he slips when Jared makes his move.

He’s lost his grip on the saddle at the same time the molten rock flies past, and it’s just close enough- just barely knicks his shoulder, but it’s enough, and he cries out in pain, feeling it burn through the leather he wears like paper and seep into his skin. All the while, he’s lost his balance, and the pain is what does him in, slipping completely from the saddle until suddenly there’s nothing underneath him but a whole lot of empty air and the ground far, far below.

Distantly, Jensen hears Jared snarl, and he’s sure that something’s happening overhead- still has the presence of mind to be scared for his partner, that Jared could get hurt. He can’t do a damn thing, though, plunging quickly towards the surface with nothing to slow him down.

All he can do is pray that Jared makes it out of the fight in one piece. Maybe at least one of them will be able to walk away from this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued :O


	8. Sixty-Seven: Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen doesn’t notice the lake until he’s a heartbeat from plunging straight into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of yesterday's thing. :>

Jensen doesn’t notice the lake until he’s a heartbeat from plunging straight into it.

It probably stems from the fact that it doesn’t look very much like water. Its surface isn’t reflective, barely shimmering under the sunlight and nearly opaque in its dark, unnatural hue. Jensen’s got the presence of mind to take a deep breath and close his eyes in the fraction of a second he has to prepare himself, and then he’s submerged, the outside world entirely blacked out once he sinks beneath the surface.

Right away, everything feels distinctly wrong. It’s cold, almost icy, and too viscous- it doesn’t feel like any lake Jensen’s ever been in as he struggles to even move his body, fighting to get back to the surface. His clothes are light, meant for ease of movement rather than raw protection, but even they seem to weigh a thousand pounds as he continues to sink, lungs already burning for air.

His hopes of surviving this are rapidly fading. The fall might not have killed him, but he’s already starting to go numb at the tips of his fingers, everything else seeming to fade out as his body struggles to function without a source of oxygen. At least dying this way won’t be as painful as hitting the ground would’ve been.

Just as he begins to lose consciousness, though, Jensen feels a disturbance in the space around him. It doesn’t make much sense or seem very important until something warm grabs him, curling tight around his body and then moving, dragging him along with it. He doesn’t register much of it until he’s yanked free of the lake, the sharp contrast of the sun and the open air after the oppressive heaviness of the lake shocking him back into awareness for a few seconds, groping blindly at whatever’s scooped him up.

It’s Jared. Of course it’s Jared; carrying him now with a surprising amount of gentleness. His wings are working hard, shaking free whatever unnatural liquid fills the lake below them, and before long, they’ve made it to the shore, Jared landing and carefully laying Jensen down on his back.

Jensen’s still coughing, his body working to clear the stuff out of his lungs and make breathing a possibility once more. He’s shaking, too, the chill that the lake had left in his body still gripping him bone-deep. The pins-and-needles numbness is a convenient distraction from the wound on his shoulder, and he makes an effort not to look at it quite yet. He’s got enough to deal with right now.

He’s so busy trying to remember how to breathe that he loses track of Jared altogether, rolling onto his side and pressing his cheek into the dirt like it’ll help him through this. That makes it all the more startling when someone speaks, rough and concerned in a voice he’s never heard before.

“Just keep coughing. I’m right here.”

A warm hand- a human hand, soft and five-fingered- settles at the middle of his back, rubbing gently while Jensen finishes his coughing fit. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, exactly, or what leads him to press into the comfort that the touch provides, but when he finally manages to look up-

He’s never once seen Jared in this form before.

He hasn’t shifted completely, the way that Jensen knows he probably can. Dragons are entirely capable of blending in with people, if they want to; it’s one of the reasons they can be so dangerous. Jared hasn’t quite reached that point, but it just leaves Jensen transfixed as he takes it all in; scales still cover Jared’s shoulders, coming some way down his arms but stopping above his elbows, and his eyes are still unmistakably those of something other. He’s beautiful; ethereal in the way humans never are, and Jensen- Jensen was having enough trouble breathing as it was.

“Are you okay?” Jared speaks again, and Jensen blinks, trying to decide that for himself. “I’m sorry. I should’ve caught you, but that thing-”

“I’m- I’m okay.” Jensen’s voice is raspy, and he tries to clear his throat, managing to trigger another coughing fit. Jared starts rubbing his back again, and helps him sit up shortly after. When Jensen finds his voice again, he continues. “Is it-?”

“It’s gone.” Jared’s eyes darken slightly before he looks up towards the sky. “I scared it off. It won’t be bothering us again.”

That raises a lot more questions than it answers, but Jensen decides to leave it alone. Instead, he focuses on Jared, just giving himself a few more seconds to take in this new form. “You… you shifted.”

Slowly, Jared looks at him again, and this time, when he blinks- his eyes change, too. They’re more human now, hazel with flecks of green and gold. “You’re hurt,” he replies, and his voice is a little bit softer now. “I can help.”

Reminded of his shoulder once more, Jensen huffs out a small breath before finally looking at it. His shirt is a lost cause, and leaves the wound exposed; it’s not terribly deep, but he’s been burnt badly, and the low amount of pain he registers only worries him further. “Shit.”

“Hold on.” Jared stands, and when Jensen looks towards him, he’s walking towards what appears to be a pile of familiar equipment- the saddle and a few bags that attach to it. Everything that Jared normally wears, and that’s when Jensen properly registers that his partner is naked. Not that it should matter, in the face of everything else going on, but it does bring a flush to his cheeks. Maybe it’s just easier to focus on something mundane.

Jared returns shortly after, carrying Jensen’s medical supplies with him. “These things work on humans, too, right?”

“Um… yeah.” Jensen nods slowly, focusing once more on keeping his breathing even as he watches Jared sit down in front of him. His lungs ache, and he suspects that feeling will linger for a few days, still. “Should work fine on any living creature.”

“Good.” Jared rummages around until he finds what he wants, a jar of ointment that Jensen mostly uses when Jared’s the one getting injured. “Here we go.”

Without even bothering to ask, Jared shuffles closer, already intent on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen doesn’t have it in him to refuse the help, so he just stays quiet and watches as Jared gets himself a generous scoop and starts to apply it to the wound, being extremely gentle the whole way through. His brow is furrowed in concentration, and Jensen takes the excuse to watch him more closely, taking in every detail of this form now that he has the chance.

“M'sorry you got hurt.” Jared’s quiet while he speaks, and Jensen just keeps watching him. “I’m supposed to protect you, and this…”

“Was unavoidable.” Jensen breathes out softly as the first soothing sensation creeps through the haze of cold. “If you got hit, we both would’ve gone down. This… this is fine. I’m still kickin’.”

“It could’ve been worse, though.” Jared’s nearly finished, and he pauses to throw an accusatory look at the lake. “I can’t decide if I’m grateful for that thing or not.”

Jensen still doesn’t know what it is, only some distant fairytales ringing any bells that explain the existence of this place. “It kept me from splattering onto the ground, so it’s not all bad.”

Jared laughs, and it’s a rough sound, like he hasn’t had the opportunity to do it in a long time. Jensen decides he wants to hear it more often. “Fair point.”

They both fall quiet while Jared finishes up, eventually tugging the remains of Jensen’s shirt out of the way so he can wrap up the wound in bandages. Finished and looking pleased with his work, he sits back a little, just watching Jensen now. “How’re you feeling? Better?”

“Better.” It’s the truth, and admittedly, Jensen thinks he would’ve struggled to do that on his own. Still… “Cold, though. I don’t know what that stuff was, but…”

Before he can finish his sentence, Jared’s moving closer again, and he doesn’t waste any time in wrapping his arms tight around Jensen. It confuses Jensen into silence, but as Jared’s body heat starts seeping into his skin- yeah. Yeah, he could get used to that.

“I can start a fire, if you want to rest for a while.” Jared speaks quietly, and Jensen leans into him, grateful for the comfort and the way his shivering starts to ease up. “But I don’t want to stay here for too long. If there’s anything else like that lake in this place-”

“We can go.” Jensen doesn’t want to linger, either. “Just- a few minutes. Let me get the feeling back in my fingers.”

Jared nods, and the two of them settle like that. Jensen rests against his partner and closes his eyes, focused entirely on the contact between them and the warmth that Jared emits, more than any normal human would offer. It’s quiet and intimate, and Jensen feels like they’ve reached something different, a new step forward in their relationship.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, not yet opening his eyes. “For saving me.”

Jared hums in response, and his arms tighten a little bit around Jensen’s body. “I told you. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

Whether that’s true or not, Jensen knows one thing for sure. Jared has become a vital fixture in his life, and as their relationship progresses, he can’t help but wonder where they’re going to end up.

As long as they’re together, though- as long as they can look out for one another- he isn’t particularly concerned about the details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	9. Sixty-Eight: Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s been keeping a close eye on his brother ever since they returned home after today’s mess of a job. His head’s still spinning trying to put everything together with how many players had been involved in trying to get the damn skull, but he’s trying to focus on other things. Most pressingly, on Sam, and how he’s been taking some pretty nasty hits in the last few cases they’ve worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little thing that takes place after 13.15. I'm very concerned about Sam getting hit on the head so many times recently ;-;

Dean’s been keeping a close eye on his brother ever since they returned home after today’s mess of a job. His head’s still spinning trying to put everything together with how many players had been involved in trying to get the damn skull, but he’s trying to focus on other things. Most pressingly, on Sam, and how he’s been taking some pretty nasty hits in the last few cases they’ve worked.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asks while they clean up after dinner. Sam’s elbow-deep in sudsy water as he scrubs the last few dishes clean, and Dean’s tempted to take the opportunity to check his head for bumps. “I mean- y'know. Still seein’ straight and whatever?”

Dean can almost hear Sam rolling his eyes. “I’m fine,” he insists, glancing over. Dean’s paused in his dish-drying duties, and he quickly starts working again. “Seriously. Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.” Dean wrinkles his nose at that, looking down at the cloth in his hands so he’ll stop staring at his brother. “I just don’t want to send you to bed if you’re concussed. Or if you’ve got a fractured skull or something.”

Sam snorts lightly, handing Dean another plate to deal with. “He didn’t fracture my skull, Dean.”

“You never know.”

Sam rolls his eyes again and they both get back to work, Dean continuing to sneak glances towards his brother while they finish up. Eventually, he just can’t help himself; he wipes his hands dry on the towelette before reaching up to the back of Sam’s head, fingertips brushing his hair.

Sam, of course, doesn’t take too kindly to that, jerking away and making a face. “Dude, I told you. I’m good.”

“Just let me check,” Dean insists, not letting up because the concern in his chest is too heavy to ignore. Maybe it’s stupid- both of them get banged up all the time, after all- but he knows damn well that too many blows to the head can put a guy down for good. “It’ll be quick.”

Sam watches him silently for a few seconds before heaving a sigh, pulling his hands out of the sink and shaking some of the excess dish water off of them. “Fine. If it’ll make you feel better.”

He steps over to the table so he can sit down, and Dean follows close behind, not wasting any time as he moves in and touches Sam’s head again. He’s gentle, cognizant of the fact that it’s probably tender where the blow had landed, and he just skims his fingertips through Sam’s hair, seeking out the spot. Sam winces when Dean finds the bump, and Dean frowns, carefully tracing it out.

“Hell of a goose egg,” he mumbles, but there’s no broken skin and nothing else amiss. Just a plain old bump on the head, and admittedly, he’s relieved. “You should get more ice on that. Get the swelling down.”

“Yeah, alright.” Sam doesn’t sound argumentative anymore, and when Dean looks down at him, he’s closed his eyes. “I will.”

Dean just nods, letting the moment last a few more seconds- his fingers in Sam’s hair, a quiet kind of intimacy about it all- before pulling away, slow and careful. “C'mon, let’s get those dishes done. Then we can kick back for a while.”

Just like that, they’re back to normal, Sam standing from his place to return to the sink a moment later. Dean feels better, having gotten a proper look at the bump for himself, but he still keeps one eye on Sam, forever worried about his little brother. If Sam notices, he doesn’t say anything, and Dean’s grateful for that much.

After all, there’s only so much he can do to silence a habit he’s held onto for his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	10. Sixty-Nine: Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dean, they’re not gonna finish if you keep staring at them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a soft thing and Dean wants to bake and!! Brothers.

“Dean, they’re not gonna finish if you keep staring at them.”

Dean makes a face at that, crouched in front of the oven and peering through the window to try to get a better view of the tray inside. It’s a new cookie recipe he’s trying- after Sam mentioned a baking app offhand, Dean’s fallen deep down the rabbit hole- and he’s worried about whether or not they’ll come out the way they’re supposed to. “That’s not true.” A brief pause, and he frowns. “I mean- it’s not, right? That’s just shit that people say?”

Sam sighs at him, but he sounds amused. Asshole. “Just an expression. But seriously, at least get cleaned up while you wait. There’s still flour in your hair.”

Dean doesn’t doubt that one bit, considering the flour he’s managed to get on everything else. His hands are still speckled with dough, too, and though a big part of him is itching to tidy up…

“But what if they burn? Maybe our oven is too strong for them.”

“They won’t burn, Dean.”

Dean finally looks up towards his brother, seated on the only untouched part of the counter. Sam’s got a faint smile on his face, looking fond, and it makes Dean hesitate. “You sure? ‘Cause if they do, that’s a whole lot of time wasted. And flour.”

“I’m sure.” Sam nods firmly, then slides off the counter and heads over to join Dean by the oven. “C'mon, I’ll even watch them for you, if it makes you feel better. Just… get yourself cleaned up. You’ve still got a few minutes before they’ll be done.”

Dean considers that for a long few seconds before giving into the growing irritation that comes with having anything stuck to his hands. “Okay, fine.” After a few seconds, once he manages to stand up- his knees protest the whole way, and yeah, maybe staying down there for so long wasn’t a great idea at his age- he continues. “And, uh. Thanks.”

Sam just smiles at him again, waiting until Dean’s stepped away towards the industrial kitchen sink to set his eyes on the oven. Dean’s grateful, as silly as it feels, both for the chance to wash his hands and the fact that Sam’s offered to take his place.

“They already smell great,” Sam informs him, and Dean’s the one who smiles that time, getting the water running so he can scrub the baking debris off his skin. He’s pretty sure this little bit of stress will be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	11. Seventy: Swings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a relief to finally be a little farther south. A string of jobs up north had Dad dragging them back and forth between states that are still clinging to the last vestiges of winter, tiny snowbanks and subzero temperatures making it feel more like January than March.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in a Weechester kinda mood.

It’s a relief to finally be a little farther south. A string of jobs up north had Dad dragging them back and forth between states that are still clinging to the last vestiges of winter, tiny snowbanks and subzero temperatures making it feel more like January than March.

Now, though, the streak has broken, and Dad’s finally found himself a case somewhere a little warmer. Before they even get out of the car, Dean can tell by the sun shining overhead and the beginnings of new growth that spring has most definitely sprung in Nevada.

Sam nearly trips over himself to get out of the car once they’ve parked, and Dean isn’t far behind him, happy for the excuse to finally wiggle out of his hoodie and let the sun shine on his bare arms. He knows they need to bring their bags inside, lay the salt lines, and get some food, but for right now, it’s nice to just feel the warm weather again for a bit.

“Think I saw a sign for a park down the street.” It’s Dad, and when Dean looks his way, there’s a smile on his face. The cold must’ve been getting to him, too, and it’s hard not to be at least a little happy under the sun like this. “You boys can head down there for a bit before dinner, if you want.”

“Yeah!” Sam’s already nodding rapidly, and he runs over to hug Dad tight around the middle. “Thanks, Dad!”

Dad laughs, and Dean’s grinning, already jogging over to join his brother. “You don’t need any help unpacking?”

“We’ve got three bags between us.” There’s a touch of amusement in Dad’s expression. “I think I’ll live. Go, you’ve got half an hour.”

That’s all the permission Dean needs, and he grins at Sam once more as the two of them start running in the direction Dad had indicated. Dean’s taking it easy- Sam’s still got a whole bunch of growing to do, and he can’t run as fast when he’s so little- but he’s having fun, too, laughing and giving his brother tiny, teasing nudges. “Wanna race?”

“You always win!” That doesn’t seem to discourage Sam all that much, though, as he pushes himself harder and speeds up a little. Even with his shorter legs, he’s quick on his feet and has a lot of energy, leaving Dean chasing after him as they approach the park.

With soft grass underfoot, Dean finally makes it up close behind Sam and snatches him right up off the ground, earning a breathless giggle from his brother. Slowing down, he shifts Sam around in his arms until he’s holding him princess-style, smiling widely on the way to the park’s playground. “S'that mean I win?”

“You cheated,” Sam accuses him, but he doesn’t look all that upset, wiggling in place just a little bit like he’s testing Dean’s hold on him. “When I get bigger, I’m gonna be way faster than you, and you’ll never catch me!”

“Keep dreamin’, squirt.” Dean grins and leans down to nose through Sam’s hair, just to hear him huff in protest. “You gotta get taller first, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

Sam pouts at him, but lights up again once they get close to the swings, nearly squirming out of Dean’s arms in excitement. “Can you push me? Please, Dean?”

Dean pretends like he’s thinking about it for a moment before nodding, setting Sam down on his feet so he can dash over and grab one of the swings for himself. “Fine, but only ‘cause I feel bad that you’re gonna be short forever.”

Sam sticks his tongue out as he plops down on the swing, and Dean can’t hide his grin, circling around so he can start pushing. Sam swings his legs in time with each one, and before long, he’s soaring high, laughing with delight and holding onto the chains tightly. Dean just smiles, feeling light and happy as he soaks up the sun overhead and the sound of his brother’s laughter.

Half an hour. Better make the most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	12. Seventy-One: Dance

“If you keep stepping on my toes, I’m not gonna let you lead.”

Jensen’s never really been the type to attend a school dance. He doesn’t see the appeal in a bunch of sweaty teenagers being crammed together in the gym with no lights on for two hours with nothing to do but jump up and down and grind against each other, but as it turns out, his boyfriend doesn’t feel quite the same way.

“It’ll be fun,” Jared had insisted, pestering Jensen with stupid, adorable notes covered in hearts and smiley faces. “It’s a couple thing!”

Now that they’re here, Jared gives a little huff and stands up taller, so Jensen rolls his eyes. “I’m taller, so I get to lead. Maybe your toes just aren’t in the right places.”

Jensen squints and considers just taking control. Admittedly, though, he likes the feeling of Jared’s hand resting on his waist. “Look, I didn’t suffer through a year of ballroom dance lessons to be told I don’t know how to slow-dance.”

“A year?” Jared’s eyebrows raise, and- okay, maybe distracting him with that little tidbit wasn’t the best idea, as he steps on Jensen’s toe again. Ouch. “Why?”

“Because my parents thought it would be fun.” Jensen just shrugs it off. “My brother and sister both had to do it, too. Like some horrible coming-of-age.”

Jared snickers and pulls him closer until their chests are nearly touching. It’s kind of nice, even if they’re down to just swaying together now. Probably safer than actually trying to dance. “Was it worth it?”

“Well, I can definitely say that I haven’t used those skills very often.” Jensen breaks into a smile, because Jared’s grinning at him now and it’s hard to look at his dimples without feeling warm inside. “Until now, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Jared leans in closer, and Jensen tries not to get too flustered when their noses bump together. They’re barely moving with the music anymore, and the slow song has ended, and they probably shouldn’t be this close together. Thank god the chaperones aren’t paying any attention. “Does that mean we get to do this more often?”

Jensen makes a face at that suggestion, but he has to admit that it’s been kind of fun. Mostly because of Jared. “Maybe.”

Jared’s smile grows, and then he presses a tiny kiss to Jensen’s lip. Just a peck; so fast that Jensen almost misses it, except for the tingling feeling it leaves behind. “Awesome.”

They spend the rest of the evening close together like that, regardless of whatever song’s playing. Jensen is quietly determined to teach Jared how to dance a little more cleanly, if only for the sake of his own feet, and… maybe he’s looking forward to doing this again.

Just a little bit.


	13. Seventy-Two: Hounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam doesn’t move for a long time after the hellhounds take Dean. He stays there in that room, Ruby’s empty meatsuit on the floor somewhere behind him while his brother’s blood soaks into his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sad and tired and this is the thing that happened.

Sam doesn’t move for a long time after the hellhounds take Dean. He stays there in that room, Ruby’s empty meatsuit on the floor somewhere behind him while his brother’s blood soaks into his clothes.

It’s impossible to pretend that things are okay. There’s no ignoring the way that Dean’s been torn open; deep gashes left in his chest and stomach where the phantom claws had sliced through his body. Sam can’t say for sure how his brother died ( _screaming_ , says a voice in his head,  _he died screaming_ ), if they’d pierced right through to his heart and lungs, or if it was maybe the blood loss. Not that any of it matters, but his brain’s searching for any illusion of distraction, and maybe wondering about the medical details of what happened will do something to make it all stop hurting so much.

Eventually, he works up the energy to wipe Dean’s face clean. The drops of blood make it too hard to see his freckles, and this seems extremely important to Sam in this moment. He closes Dean’s eyes and doesn’t look at anything below his brother’s neck and tries to tell himself that Dean is asleep.

Sam’s not very good at lying to himself, and this one stands on thinner ice than most.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, voice whisper-soft like Dean is still around to hear him. Like maybe his spirit is hanging around, or watching him from heaven. As if either of those things are possible realities after the deal Dean had made. “What, Dean? What do I-”

His voice breaks, and he can’t speak anymore, and somewhere distant, he knows they need to leave. Knows that somebody will eventually call the police and he’ll be the only one nearby to blame for the pair of corpses in this room. None of it is enough to make him move, to work up the ambition to stand up and gather his brother’s body in his arms so he can-

So he can…

God, Dad would be pissed. Even Dean would be angry, but right then and there- god. Sam knows he can’t burn Dean’s body. He can’t do the one fucking job he’s got left, the last thing he can do for his brother, and he just.

He just. Can’t.

“I’m sorry.”

Dean can’t hear him, and it doesn’t feel any better to say the words to an empty room. His eyes are stinging, and Sam breaks all over again.

He  _can’t_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	14. Seventy-Three: Pi(e) Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, don’t give me that look.” Dean huffs at his brother, sitting across the table at him, because Sam’s got that exasperated expression on his face and it’s extremely distracting. “It’s pie day, which means I get to eat all the pie I want. That’s the law.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean and Pi(e) Day.

“Hey, don’t give me that look.” Dean huffs at his brother, sitting across the table at him, because Sam’s got that exasperated expression on his face and it’s extremely distracting. “It’s pie day, which means I get to eat all the pie I want. That’s the law.”

Sam looks pointedly towards the three pies sitting on the table- two of them store-bought and yet unopened, and one homemade and half-eaten- before meeting Dean’s eyes again. “It’s pi day. Not pie. Pi as in math, Dean. You know, 3.1415-”

“You lost me at ‘not pie’.” Dean knows exactly what day it is, but seeing the way that Sam huffs and pouts and rolls his eyes when he plays dumb about this is too tempting to pass up. Besides, any excuse for pie is a good one in his mind. “I’ve got my pies, I’m happy. You can do math whenever you want, so you should be happy, too. Now c'mon, I ever offered to share.”

“You can eat pie whenever you want, too, Dean.” Despite saying that, when Dean reaches out with a clean fork in hand, Sam heaves a sigh before accepting it, leaning forward to get himself a piece of the homemade pie. Caramel apple. Dean’s been dying to make one for weeks. “Fine.”

Dean grins, victorious and content to just spend some time with his brother, the two of them working away at the pie together. As health-conscious as Sam might be, the look on his face says he appreciates the treat at least a little bit, and that’s good enough to make Dean happy right now.

“Happy Pi Day,” he says later, cheerful, and Sam rolls his eyes, but he’s got a smile on his face, too.

“Yeah, yeah. Happy Pi Day, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	15. Seventy-Four: Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here, you can start going through my notes,” Jared had told him before vanishing downstairs, dropping a notebook onto the desk beside Jensen. “I’m gonna get us some snacks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little high school au thing.

It’s creeping towards the evening, and Jensen’s settled back in Jared’s desk chair, letting his eyes wander around his boyfriend’s bedroom as he gets himself good and comfy. Officially, this is a study date, and Jared’s parents aren’t around right now, and he’s got plenty of time to familiarize himself with the new environment. The books tucked away on the shelves, the band posters, the small collection of sports trophies. Everything about it is distinctly Jared, and that brings a smile to Jensen’s lips, already feeling warm and comfortable surrounded by it all.

“Here, you can start going through my notes,” Jared had told him before vanishing downstairs, dropping a notebook onto the desk beside Jensen. “I’m gonna get us some snacks.”

So that’s exactly what Jensen starts to do, listening to the distant sounds of Jared banging around downstairs, presumably in the kitchen. His notes are a little chaotic until Jensen starts to pick apart the patterns in them and deciphers the messy handwriting, but every new piece of understanding is satisfying to him- like he’s learned something new about Jared that he couldn’t have otherwise discovered.

A few pages in as he makes his way towards their current material, though, he pauses, his attention drawn by some doodles in the margins. It’s not that their presence is especially novel- every part of every page so far has been filled, one way or another- but these ones stand out as a little bit different than the rest.

Jensen’s tracing his fingertip around the little hearts when Jared returns, carrying a couple sizable bowls of popcorn and two cans of soda. He doesn’t seem fazed when he notices what Jensen’s doing, just flashing a wide smile as he sets down the snacks and wanders over to see. “I, uh- my mind kinda wanders in class. Doodling helps me pay attention.”

The “J + J” carefully written into the heart has Jensen smiling, even as his cheeks warm and his heart flutters. It’s silly to get worked up about the fact that Jared thinks about him during class, but- hell. He can’t help himself.

“You’re cute,” he says simply, and Jared laughs before leaning in and pecking him on the cheek. “Like- really cute.”

“I know.” Jared grins at him and shrugs, obviously pleased with himself. “Now c'mon, calculus. Let’s talk about calculus.”

Calculus is the last thing that Jensen cares to talk about right then and there, but if Jared keeps smiling the way he is right now, maybe it’ll be at least a little bit bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	16. Seventy-Five: Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen has a routine. He wakes up, gets himself ready for the day, heads out, and goes to the same coffee shop, every single day. He orders the same thing, and sits at the same table to drink his coffee and eat his (low-fat, organic, probably overpriced) yogurt parfait. He finishes up in fifteen minutes- twenty, if he’s got a little extra time to kill- and then he goes straight to work to move through the rest of his day, set on the right path after a safe and familiar beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something like this happened in front of me at Tim's this morning, and it was kinda cute.

Jensen has a routine. He wakes up, gets himself ready for the day, heads out, and goes to the same coffee shop, every single day. He orders the same thing, and sits at the same table to drink his coffee and eat his (low-fat, organic, probably overpriced) yogurt parfait. He finishes up in fifteen minutes- twenty, if he’s got a little extra time to kill- and then he goes straight to work to move through the rest of his day, set on the right path after a safe and familiar beginning.

It’s his routine, and it’s comfortable, and it’s so deeply entrenched that he rarely needs to consciously think about any one part of it. He runs on autopilot in the mornings, and it makes them that much easier to get through, and he’s completely content with that.

Unfortunately, Jensen’s so deep into his routine today that he doesn’t notice the tall stranger who reaches out to accept his order at the same time as him.

They’re in the Jensen’s favourite coffee shop, and it’s early in the morning, and nobody nearby raises their voice above a quiet murmurs. It’s exactly how Jensen prefers things to be in the minutes before he gets his dose of caffeine, and it allows him to get completely lost inside his own head, drifting while he’s still got the chance. He’s placed his order, and he’s waiting at the end of the counter, and when one of the baristas calls out an “extra large americano, black, for Jay,” he’s ready to step forward and grab it, more than used to his name being shortened or scribbled down wrong, but.

“Oh, is this one yours?”

The voice alone is enough to draw Jensen out of his early-morning haze, and he looks up to meet the man’s eyes, caught off-guard for a moment by the open, curious expression he’s met with. Jensen knows he wouldn’t take kindly to somebody trying to snatch his coffee. “Uh- I thought so. Did you-?”

“I had the same order.” The guy smiles and shrugs. “You can take it, if you want. I’m in no hurry.”

Jensen doesn’t know what to say to that, maybe because his mind is suddenly very occupied with a sunny pair of dimples, but the barista speaks up and rescues him. “There’s another one coming up, sir. With a yogurt?”

Right. “I don’t want to steal your drink,” Jensen says, apologetic. Maybe he needs to start paying a little more attention in the mornings. “Sorry, uh- Jay? Is that it?”

“Jared, actually.” Jared smiles again, brighter still, and Jensen is dumbfounded as to how somebody can possibly be this cheerful this early in the morning. “And don’t sweat it. But… you could make it up to me by telling me your name.” A brief pause as Jared picks up his drink, looking thoughtful. “And… I’d forgive you even more if you sat down to have your coffee with me.”

The offer is as surprising as it is unfairly tempting, and Jensen’s mouth answers before his rain can catch up. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.” It’s his turn to smile, and he feels warm with the way Jared lights up. “I’m Jensen. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Jared gives him a playful wink, and when Jensen’s order arrives, the two of them find themselves a table- not Jensen’s usual spot- and spend the next little while together, chatting over their coffee. Jared does most of the talking, and Jensen’s happy to jump in when he gets the chance, and for as different as it is, he can’t help but think he really, really likes it.

He leaves for work that morning with a phone number in his pocket and a light, fluttery feeling in his chest, replaying Jared’s last few words in his head for the next couple of hours.

_“Same time tomorrow?”_

Jensen doesn’t think he’ll have any problems with getting used to this new routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	17. Seventy-Six: Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think we’ll always be together like this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little J2 thing. I was in a flower kinda mood and. Kind of along the same lines as Forget-Me-Not.

“You think we’ll always be together like this?”

Jensen’s nearly dozing off when Jared speaks up, warm under the sun and comfortable in the field they’ve found for themselves. It’s a quiet spot, tucked away past the edge of town and bordered by forest on two sides. In the early spring here, the flowers are already starting to bloom, poking up all around them in shades of blue and yellow and pink. It all lends a soft, sweet smell to the air, and it’s hard not to relax here, the two of them laid out side-by-side in the late afternoon.

Jensen doesn’t open his eyes, but when Jared’s fingers find his, curling together loosely, he squeezes them in return. “Together?” he repeats. “You mean…”

“Just… together.” Jared’s thumb moves against the back of Jensen’s hand, and Jensen breathes out softly. “I just… I never wanna lose you, y’know?”

“Yeah.” After knowing each other for so long, after being so much to each other- after this, Jensen doesn’t think he knows how to exist without Jared. Something in his chest tightens just with the thought of it, and he shuffles a little closer until their arms brush against each other. “Me, neither.”

“So… you think we will? Be together, I mean?”

Jensen opens his eyes, finally, turning to face Jared instead of looking up at the clear sky. Jared’s watching him, unsurprisingly, and only a few centimetres separate them, noses nearly brushing together. Jensen holds his breath, just taking in the quiet perfection of this moment as the grass rustles around them, then leans in to brush their lips together, just barely.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and he tightens his grip on Jared’s hand. “Forever.”

Jared smiles and kisses him properly, and Jensen lets himself get lost in it, entirely consumed by the thing that exists between them. He never wants to leave this place, and he never wants this to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	18. Seventy-Seven: Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John isn’t allowed to be soft anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in the mood for John/Dean, but this ended up more. John-and-Dean. Kinda.

John isn’t allowed to be soft anymore. Not since Mary died and he was thrown into this world of silver and iron and blood; not since he was left with two little boys to raise and to protect against the things that hide in the dark. Softness is weakness, so he sharpens all of his edges and makes sure that he doesn’t have any left. No softness. No weakness. Nothing that can be used against him or taken away.

(Nothing except his boys. They’d be so much better off somewhere else, with someone else, but god, he can’t let them go.)

It gets easier over time, anyways. To be nothing but hard edges. Seeing death day in and day out will do that to a man; he’s aged so much more than the twenty years that have passed, seen so much more than any man should have to. He’s rough and he keeps to himself and he gets the job done, because that’s all that matters anymore and that’s what he clings to. That’s what gets him up in the mornings.

Except.

Except that there’s also Dean.

Sam has left them behind already, chasing a dream of a better life, and as much as it still stings- as much as the screaming match still echoes in his head when it gets too quiet- John just hopes that he’s safe. They visit, sometimes, watch from a distance, and Sam seems happy. Sam seems like he’s doing okay, all by himself, but Dean- Dean’s still here. John doesn’t think that Dean is ever going to leave his side (selfish, he’s so fucking selfish for that to be a relief), and Dean- Dean.

Somehow, despite everything, Dean is still soft.

He gets the job done just fine. In fact, he’s a damn good hunter; John’s taught him everything he knows, and Dean’s always been a quick learner. He knows the lore, he’s a good fighter, and he can manage himself just as well as he can follow orders. But- but there are other things, too, like the way he talks to scared kids when they’re on the job, or how good he is at getting people to trust him. Or the way he lights up over the little things, like a good burger or a pretty waitress, or how he still looks at John like he’s hung the fucking moon-

Dean is still soft the way John’s forgotten how to be, and all John cares about some days is keeping him that way forever.

“Dad?” Dean asks him when he walks into the room one day, and John’s bent over his journal, carefully detailing the hunt they’ve just finished up. Dean’s found himself a job in town, too, a gig at a diner for a few extra bucks, and he’s still in uniform when John looks up. Dean’s eyes are fixed on the small table tucked away in the corner, and that’s where he’s headed, too. “What’re these for?”

John already knows what he’s talking about, but glances over anyways, taking a slow breath. The flowers had been an impulse decision, and maybe a stupid one- they’re damn expensive, and they don’t really have the money to spare- but there’s something about them that had caught hit eye. They used to make him think about Mary, but now…

“Just thought they’d brighten up the room.” He shrugs, like it doesn’t matter, and watches too closely as Dean approaches them, fingertips brushing delicate petals. “No big deal.”

He’s all caught up in the way that Dean touches the flowers, like they’re fragile and precious and will shatter on contact. Quietly, it’s exactly the same way that John thinks about Dean. “Huh. Alright.” A pause, and then Dean looks over towards him, smiling, and John holds his breath. “Never took you for an interior designer, Dad.”

John cracks a smile because he can’t help himself, and because seeing Dean in good spirits is… it’s good. It makes him happy to know he played a part in it. “Yeah, well. I won’t quit my day job quite yet.”

Dean laughs, and he eventually sits down across from John and asks what they’re going to have for dinner. John clings to the smile on his son’s face and the warm way that it makes him feel, and promises himself- not for the first time- that he’ll do everything in his power to preserve that.

He can’t allow himself to be soft anymore, but hell if he’s going to let Dean go the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	19. Seventy-Eight: Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s hard to keep his eyes on the road instead of on his little brother in the passenger’s seat, but Dean tries his damnedest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling kind of blah, and "Drive" came on, and this is what happened.

It’s hard to keep his eyes on the road instead of on his little brother in the passenger’s seat, but Dean tries his damnedest.

As familiar as it is to have Sam close by, Dean’s still not used to having him back. He’s gotten so used to being alone over the past couple years, used to going days without talking to another human being, and having another presence constantly at his side now is- it’s almost too much, in some ways, and not at all enough in others, because Sam’s here, but.

Sam’s different, now. Sam’s distant in a way that he’s never been, because for the past four years, Sam has been living a whole different life. A life where he’s just another kid with student loans and a part-time job and a steady girlfriend, studying to be a lawyer and earn his white picket fence somewhere down the road.

For four years, he’s been living a life where Dean is a distant memory. A stain on the normalcy he’s always been so desperate to achieve, and somebody who belongs in his damaged, broken past.

Except that Dean’s here now. Dean’s driving them down some backroad on the countryside because Dad’s missing and Jessica is dead and all they have right now is each other, whether they like it or not. Dean still isn’t sure how he feels about that, not with the way his heart twists in his chest every single time he looks at his brother.

_“I’m sorry,”_  Sam had said before he’d left, and he’d looked like he was fighting tears, though it didn’t weaken the resolve in his eyes.  _“I just- I can’t, Dean. I can’t stay here. I can’t do this anymore.”_

Dean can’t help but wonder if Sam resents him for this, and that thought might hurt most of all.

Not that any of it matters. Sam’s here, one way or another. All Dean can do is try to keep his eyes on the road and his mind from wandering too close to his little brother.

He’s not sure how well he’ll be able to manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	20. Seventy-Nine: Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I never thought I’d end up with a human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dragon AU thing.

After the first time, Jared starts to shift more often, usually when they’ve got some time off to relax for a little while. It takes some getting used to for Jensen, after getting to know him in his dragon form over the past couple months, but he can’t deny that he likes the company.

Once Jared grows accustomed to speaking English- maybe for the first time in his existence, though he hasn’t confirmed or denied that as of yet- Jensen quickly comes to learn that his partner likes to talk. It’s kind of endearing, and maybe it’s just that he’s missed having this sort of two-way communication, but it seems like anything and everything is enough to get him excited. He talks about how much he enjoys flying, about the excitement of seeing a new place for the first time, and about how cows are so much easier to eat than sheep (all the extra fluff makes sheep harder to swallow, or so he claims). He seems lighter like this, more cheerful than Jensen’s ever really imagined it to be, and Jensen likes to think it’s because they’re finally getting closer, both as friends and as a bonded pair.

“I never thought I’d end up with a human.”

They’re lying down, side-by-side under the night sky, looking up at a breathtaking smattering of stars overhead. Jared prefers to sleep in dragon form unless absolutely necessary- it makes him feel safer, Jensen suspects- but until then, they’ve settled down to stargaze for a while as they wind down before calling it a night. It’s peaceful, with the sound of running water somewhere nearby as crickets chirp in the longer grass some ways away.

Jensen turns his head to look at Jared after the statement, and Jared’s still got his eyes focused somewhere up above, looking relaxed and happy. He’s almost entirely humanoid now, just a few scales across his shoulders that give it away. It’s a display of trust, and Jensen is quietly pleased. “No?”

“No.” Jared shakes his head, shifting so he can stretch his arms up above himself. “Not once. I knew that some dragons ended up that way, but… I guess I never really saw the appeal, you know?” He shrugs. “Humans… humans have always seemed like a source of food or a potential risk. Nothing more or less than that. Farmers and hunters. And I was always taught to steer clear unless I felt especially brave that day.” He smiles, then, and Jensen likes the way it looks on him, the dimples in his cheeks. “Sometimes I did. And then there was you.”

Jensen smiles, too, remembering that encounter. How close he’d come to turning and bolting before ultimately giving in and trying to offer some help. “And then there was me. The human stupid enough to come say hi.”

Jared laughs at him, turning his head so their eyes meet, and Jensen thinks he’s never going to get over the way Jared’s eyes reflect the moonlight, inhuman and beautiful. “A little stupid, yeah. But it’s good for both of us that you did, huh? Never would’ve met, otherwise.”

Jensen had spent so much of his life believing that he would never have a partner, and now that he does… he hates the thought that he could’ve missed it so easily and thrown away that opportunity forever. Now, though, he just smiles. “Yeah. Good for both of us.”

The two of them fall quiet and go back to watching the sky, but when Jared’s hand sneaks a little closer and finds Jensen’s… Jensen doesn’t hesitate to let their fingers fit together, feeling his heart stutter faintly and wondering if Jared has noticed.

This part- the tactility- he’s still getting used to. But with Jared warm at his side and a quiet sort of comfort settling over them, he thinks he’ll learn to manage just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	21. Eighty: Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t just sleep all day, Jared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil vampire!Jared J2 thing.

“You can’t just sleep all day, Jared.”

Jensen perches on the edge of the bed with two mugs of hot coffee, his eyes fixed on the lump under the covers made by his boyfriend’s body. It’s dark in their bedroom- it almost always is- and his eyes have adjusted as well as they can, waiting patiently for the opportunity to turn on a light or two.

Jared’s first response is a grumble, and to curl up a little tighter in the nest he’s made for himself. “Of course I can,” comes the muffled, grouchy response. “That’s exactly what I’m supposed to do.”

It’s not entirely untrue, and Jensen sighs, setting the coffee on the closest bedside table for now. This is probably going to take some time. “I know it’s been hard getting used to it, but we’ll just miss each other all the time otherwise. We’ve got the blackout curtains, and we don’t have to leave the house all day. I’ll even stay up late with you if you want to go out.”

Jared just grumbles again, so Jensen climbs further into bed. He’s not even sure that Jared needs to  _sleep_ , technically, but he claims that he’s spent so much time among humans over the past few decades that he’s “contracted it”, in his own words. Jensen’s not entirely convinced that he doesn’t just close his eyes and lie still for hours at a time just for the novelty of it. “Jared, come on. What can I do to convince you to get up?”

Silence, and some more shuffling under the covers. Jensen’s already got some ideas to offer up that might tempt Jared to get moving- if coffee isn’t enough to do the trick, then a quick feeding session might do it- but Jared offers his own answer first. “I demand at least… twenty minutes of cuddling.” He finally pokes his head out from under the covers, looking sleep-mussed and blinking slowly at Jensen. “And then we’ll see. I might get up before sundown. Maybe.”

It doesn’t sound like such a bad deal, and Jensen shrugs before crawling his way under the covers. Jared doesn’t waste any time in wrapping around him like a clingy octopus, and Jensen gives a little huff with the press of lips against his pulse point. “Hungry?”

“Not yet.” It’s barely a mumble, muffled against Jensen’s skin, and Jared pulls him closer. “Talk to me in half an hour.”

Jensen’s pretty sure that wasn’t their agreement, but he doesn’t quite have the heart to protest when Jared’s already looking so peaceful again. He can survive a few extra minutes of this if it means eventually coaxing his boyfriend out of bed.

Maybe an hour or two wouldn’t be so bad. Or the whole day. It’s not the first time that Jensen’s considered trying to live nocturnally for Jared’s sake, and it probably won’t be the last, either. Right now, though, he’s content to just close his eyes and sleep in a little later, comforted by Jared’s closeness and quietly pleased that they’re together like this, no matter the circumstances.

If being with Jared means living in darkness and spending a little extra time lazing around in the morning… Jensen’s happy to make that little sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	22. Eighty-One: Distressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As hard as Dean fights to keep the nightmares strictly in the realm of unconsciousness, they seem to be slipping through more often than not as of late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word was "distressed" and I was feeling kinda :/, so here's this.

As hard as Dean fights to keep the nightmares strictly in the realm of unconsciousness, they seem to be slipping through more often than not as of late.

It starts slowly, in those first, paralyzing moments after he wakes up. When the fear still grips him, curls so tight that he can’t remember how to breathe. It lasts a few seconds until he can ground himself in reality, and then it fades, something to be feared, but something that doesn’t follow him once he gets out of bed. He’s gotten damn good at compartmentalizing throughout his life, and this is just another thing to shove into its own little box.

That works just fine until suddenly, it doesn’t.

It’s stupid. It’s something he’s seen a million times and has had decades to desensitize himself to. It’s a fire, and it’s the smell of burning flesh, and maybe worst of all, it’s somebody that he isn’t fast enough to save.

Sam’s the one who grabs him when he tries to run back into the house, running on some deep-rooted fear and the desperate, illogical drive to do something. They both know it’s too late, and the screaming has already stopped, and maybe it’s because the wound of losing his mother has been freshly torn open, but-

“Dean- Dean!” Sam’s grip is tight, and Dean doesn’t realize he’s fighting against it until Sam shakes him, fights to get his attention. “C'mon, man, it’s too late. It’s too late.”

And maybe it’s those words that set him off, or maybe it’s everything else about this horrible, unfair situation. Maybe it’s every little thing piled up too high to reach, weighing on him and testing his sanity until one day, he inevitably snaps.

Maybe today isn’t that day, but it feels damn close.

He’s shaking, and his breath is coming too short and too fast, and- and he’s crying, maybe, or maybe his eyes are just watering from the smoke. And Sam figures it out before Dean does, lowers him down to the dew-wet grass on the side of the road and doesn’t let go of him, holds him tight.

“Hey, easy.” And his voice is softer, now, and a little scared, too. And Dean can’t do a damn thing about it, nothing but let his brother hold him close and try to focus on Sam’s heartbeat instead of everything else. “It’s- it’s okay, Dean. C'mon, you’re okay.”

And Dean hates feeling weak like this, he fucking hates it, but. But there’s nothing he can do except squeeze his eyes shut and listen to Sam’s voice and try to remember how to breathe without choking on the smell of his childhood being burned to ash.

He isn’t any good at that quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	23. Eighty-Two: Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Doin’ so good, baby. Just like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tough Mudder was on my dash at like 3am, and I'm really emotional about Jared calling Jensen "baby", and I had to do something about it immediately, so here's some porn.

“Doin’ so good, baby. Just like that.”

Jared’s breathless as he speaks, barely able to get the words out when he’s so entirely consumed by what Jensen’s doing to him. He’s sitting on the couch, and there’s some movie playing on the TV, and they’re pressed closecloseclose, Jensen’s legs spread wide over Jared’s hips and no space left between them as they move together, slow and steady. Jared’s buried deep and he thinks he could’ve come by now if Jensen wasn’t so fucking good at this, so good at teasing him and pulling him right to that edge without quite letting him reach it.

Jensen works his hips like he’s getting paid for it, and it’s all Jared can do to hold on for the ride, fingertips pressing into soft flesh and he’s dizzy with the sight of the red marks he leaves behind, too caught up in this moment to not read them as possession. He knows Jensen is his by the matching rings on their fingers and a million promises whispered into soft skin, but every fractional reminder- every moment like this where they’re completely, entirely giving into each other-

“Fuck,” Jensen gasps out, and Jared tightens his grip and hits that same angle again to make sure he gets that slow drag right against Jensen’s prostate. Jensen shudders and leans into him, probably leaving his own bruises with the vice-grip he’s got on Jared’s shoulders, and Jared- Jared’s obsessed with that thought, with them leaving those little marks on each other.

“Close?” he murmurs, and Jensen’s mouth finds his, suddenly, hard and hungry, and Jared gives just as good as he gets, still holding on tight. Jensen’s movements are getting sloppier now, his focus split between his hips and his mouth and the matching orgasms they’re building towards, and Jared loves every second of it, something like a growl slipping free as he thrusts up, buried himself that extra half an inch just to hear Jensen whine.

Jared knows that neither of them will last much longer, all sweat-slick and desperate and messy, and he’s entirely fine with that. All he can bring himself to care about right then is the feeling of Jensen pressed against him, all around him, how fucking warm and tight he is inside, the taste of his mouth-

Jensen rolls his hips once more, twice, then shudders hard, moans straight into Jared’s mouth as he spills, hot and messy between them. He tightens around Jared, and Jared does growl this time, takes the moment to pour his last bit of energy into speeding up and fucking into Jensen as hard as he can, relishing in the little hitches of breath he earns until he hits that peak, heat coiled tight in his gut before it rushes out of him all at once.

They stay together like that for a few minutes, the two of them pressed close and catching their breath and taking the time to recover. Jensen goes soft in Jared’s arms, and Jared gentles his hold, pulling Jensen close into an embrace that’s less about possession and more about comfort and adoration.

“Good?” he mumbles, and he nuzzles at Jensen’s neck, nose pressed into his pulse point for a moment. They’ll need to move soon, to clean up and migrate to their bedroom for the night, but this is okay for now, and the tender moments after are almost as good as the rest of it. Maybe better, some days.

“Yeah.” Jensen’s voice is quiet, all sleepy contentment, and Jared smiles. “Really good.”

They stay quiet after that, holding each other for those few extra minutes before they work up the ambition to move. Jared thinks he could happily fall asleep like this, sticky discomfort be damned, and hugs Jensen just a little tighter with the thought of it.

Judging by the way Jensen settles against him, a warm, comfortable weight, Jared figures he isn’t alone in that feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	24. Eighty-Three: Feeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We probably shouldn’t be doing this in public.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of the J2 vampire!Jared thing. :>

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this in public.”

There’s not much conviction in Jensen’s voice, and he doesn’t put up any resistance when Jared noses in closer, pressing him back against the wall. They’re tucked away in an alley between a couple buildings, only a faint glow from the streetlights and the moon overhead providing any light. It would be scary in any other circumstance, the sort of place Jensen wouldn’t want to find himself after sundown, but being with Jared makes it hard to worry about those sorts of things anymore.

“Nobody can see us.” Jared hums, ducking down until his lips are brushing Jensen’s throat, just a tease of what’s to come. “And even if they do, they won’t bother us.”

He’s probably right, but it doesn’t stop the shiver that creeps up Jensen’s spine at the faint scrape of teeth against his skin. Maybe a part of him gets off on the risk of being caught, of somebody seeing them like this. Seeing what Jared’s about to do to him. Jared’s entire existence is supposed to be a secret, but he never seems all that concerned in moments like this. He’s always more confident under the cover of night.

Jared mumbles against his skin, a hot puff of breath coming along with the words. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” One of Jensen’s hands slides up into Jared’s hair, curling in tight because he likes to have an anchor, and he takes a deep breath, trying to relax. “Ready.”

It always hurts at first, the feeling of Jared’s fangs piercing his skin. Razor-sharp, he can’t help the way his breath hitches, his free hand finding Jared’s arm to grab and focusing mostly on keeping his feet under him. Jared’s holding him, too, gentle and strong all in one, and after the first couple of seconds, Jensen needs the support for a different reason altogether.

Jared’s never really given him a straight answer about how this part works. It’s a warm kind of tingle, at first, starting at the place where Jared’s mouth is sealed firmly against his neck, and it spreads from there, leaving his knees weak as he instinctively gives into the feeling. If it weren’t for the wall behind him and Jared’s arms keeping him upright, Jensen thinks he’d already have slid down to the pavement.

Distantly, he can feel the blood starting to leave his body, something dulled by whatever endorphins are taking up most of his awareness right now. He isn’t sure when his eyes slipped shut, but they’re closed now, all of him offered up to Jared with the sort of implicit trust he ought not to give to a creature designed to hunt and kill human beings.

Jared’s good at this, though. Jared’s had plenty of time to figure out the limitations of the human body, and more recently, the limitations of Jensen’s body- exactly how much blood he can lose before he starts to get dizzy, before he can’t keep himself conscious. It’s a dangerous line to walk, and things are starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges when Jared finally pulls back, but Jensen’s used to it, and the hazy sort of comfort he’s left with makes it all more than worth the risk.

Maybe he does get a bit of a high out of this. The danger, or the fact that somebody might see them. He’s not up for analyzing it right now.

“Hey.” And Jared’s voice is softer, now, one of his hands finding Jensen’s cheek and stroking, careful like he’s made of glass. “You with me?”

Jensen hums, not quite up to opening his eyes yet, and entirely content to lean into Jared and let his boyfriend keep him upright for now. He needs the time to recover until he can get some sugar into his body, and Jared knows that just as well as he does. “I’m good.”

When Jared’s lips brush against his, Jensen leans into it, used to the taste of his own blood by now and not shy about letting the tip of his tongue brush over Jared’s fangs, not retracted yet so soon after a feeding. Jared makes a low sound- they’re sensitive, and Jensen smiles- before pulling back, waiting until Jensen finally opens his eyes again before he speaks. “Let’s go home. You should probably sit for a while.”

Jensen has no problem with that suggestion, so he lets himself be tucked into Jared’s side, grateful for the support as he fights to keep himself steady. Maybe Jared took just a little bit too much this time around, but nothing dangerous, and Jensen- Jensen likes it, though he’s never voiced that out loud. He likes the edging that leaves him feeling loose and distant, entirely dependent on Jared to even keep him walking in a straight line, and it’s something about himself that he just doesn’t have the ambition to question at this point in their relationship.

Whatever the reasoning behind it, it leaves him smiling, soft and content as Jared guides him back towards the car. The sun will be up in a few hours, and they’ll need to hole up inside until it gets dark again, and Jensen’s already looking forward to crawling back into bed, getting some rest and some food so Jared can drink from him again soon.

Jensen might be just the tiniest bit hooked on the whole thing. He decides to keep it to himself for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	25. Eighty-Four: Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen hates being shy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared talking about how there's only one pretty boy in his life just... made me feel things. This wasn't the direction I was initially gonna go, but. This is very soft and they're smol and it's just. Fluff.

Jensen hates being shy. He hates not knowing how to talk to people; how to ask questions in class or talk to the other kids at recess. Every time he tries- every time he even thinks about trying- his chest gets tight like he’s forgetting how to breathe, and even if he manages to stutter through a couple of words, his face will heat up and his heart will be beating too fast and it’s all just- it’s too  _much_ , and he hates it. His parents try to encourage him to just talk to people, to branch out and make some friends, but they don’t seem to understand how bad it is. How much he can’t bring himself to manage that.

Mostly, he just keeps to himself at school. He keeps his head down during class, and he sits by himself at lunch, and at recess, he’ll sneak a book or a toy outside and find a nice, quiet spot to sit so he can waste the time away without interruption. It works for him, even though it leaves him feeling lonely, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know how to fix it when even just  _talking_ to people is so hard.

He’s sticking right to that routine when a new student joins their class, a boy named Jared who introduces himself in a cheerful voice and goes on a tangent about how excited he is to have moved to the city until the teacher cuts him off, letting him know that they need to start the day’s lesson. Jensen looks at him long enough to take him in- his smile matches his voice, and he’s tall, and his hair curls up at the ends- before returning to his work, hoping his staring went unnoticed. Jared seems like the type of boy who won’t have any trouble making himself some friends, new kid or not, so Jensen stows away his quiet curiosity and focuses on class. No sense in letting himself daydream when he should be working.

It’s not until they’re let out for recess that he lets his mind wander a little bit more, a book held close as he makes his way to his favourite spot. It’s under a tree, tucked away by the fence at the far end of the schoolyard, and he settles down once he gets there, eyes drifting towards the rest of the field where most of his classmates are occupying themselves. Though he’s too far away to make out anybody in particular, he assumes that Jared will join them. Maybe he likes playing soccer, like some of the other boys in their class. Not that it matters; none of it is any of Jensen’s business, and he turns his eyes down to the book he’s reading, sighing quietly as he opens it up to where he last left off and allows himself to get lost in the story.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice that somebody’s approaching him until they’re close enough to cast a shadow over the page he’s on, prompting him to look up in confusion.

“Hi.” It’s Jared. Not playing soccer with the other boys, or even hanging out by the sidelines. He’s just standing in front of Jensen, a smile on his face and his hands behind his back. “Um- can I sit with you?”

Jensen’s never found himself in this sort of situation before, so he just nods, slow and confused as Jared lowers himself down to sit on the grass. He looks perfectly at ease, and Jensen doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do, though he starts by setting down his book. “You’re… Jared, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Jared beams at him, and Jensen- Jensen likes that a lot, that smile he’s wearing. “What’s your name?”

“Jensen.” Jensen sits up a little straighter, taking this excuse to look at Jared up close. His eyes are too many colours to count, and his cheeks are dimpled when he smiles. “Um… did you want something?”

Jared blinks, then smiles again, sheepish this time. “Well… not really. I just wanted to come meet you.” He seems to hesitate for a short moment before pulling his hands out from behind his back, and- and he’s got a bunch of wildflowers, carefully bunched together, and he holds them out to Jensen. “And I wanted to give you these.”

Jensen’s frozen for a few seconds, because- because this isn’t something he knows how to respond to. Flowers mean all sorts of things, he thinks, but none of them make any sense here, not to be coming from this boy he’s just met. His reaction is several beats too late, and he stutters, and he’s getting that tight feeling in his chest again. “You- I- what-?”

“They’re for you.” And Jared- Jared looks shy now, too. Still smiling, but with a hint of uncertainty as he offers up this little gift. “I just, um- I saw you in class today, and I thought you were really pretty, and- and I wanted to give you these. They’re not as pretty as you are, but…”

Jensen thinks he must be blushing up to the tips of his ears. Instinctively, he wants to reject those words, remembering things he’s heard from his father and from other boys, but. But mostly, he likes the way they make him feel, the warmth that blooms in his chest. Slowly, he reaches out to take the flowers, fingers brushing against Jared’s as he does, and when he speaks, it’s soft and without conviction. “Boys aren’t supposed to be pretty.”

Jared’s back to smiling again, and it’s bright like the sun, and Jensen ducks his head down, focuses on the flowers that are now in his possession. He thinks he’ll put them in his water bottle for the rest of the day and maybe ask his mom for a vase when he gets home. “So? That doesn’t mean that you aren’t. You’ve got pretty eyes, and pretty freckles, and a pretty smile-”

“Jared,” Jensen mumbles, because he thinks if Jared keeps going he’ll just combust on the spot. He’s never thought of himself that way before, never thought of any of that like it’s a good thing, and- and.

“Is it okay if I stay?” That’s a little easier to hear, Jensen thinks, so he peeks up at Jared again, trying to calm his racing heart. “You can keep reading your book, if you want. I just wanna hang out with you. Maybe we can be friends?”

Friends don’t call their friends pretty and give them flowers, Jensen thinks, but he keeps it to himself. “Okay,” he agrees, and he can’t help his tiny smile when Jared gives an excited little cheer. “It’s- it’s nice to meet you.”

With that, the two of them settle down, and Jensen is surprised by how quiet Jared manages to be when he goes back to his book. Whenever Jensen looks up at the end of a chapter, Jared’s just sitting beside him, smiling or humming or looking up at the sky overhead. It’s comforting, and it’s… nice. It’s really, really nice. Even though he’s doing the same thing he always does at recess, he’s no longer doing it alone, and it’s making all the difference in the world.

They walk back to class side-by-side, and Jensen brings his flowers home with him, a little rumpled, but no worse for wear as they take up residence at his desk. Every time he looks at them that evening, he’s reminded of the way Jared smiles and the warm feeling that comes with being called pretty.

Maybe he’s finally found himself a real friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	26. Eighty-Five: Tomatoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dude, they’re just tomatoes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because grocery shopping is very, very important to Dean. Here's a little brothers thing.

“Dude, they’re just tomatoes.”

Despite the sound of his brother’s exasperation, Dean doesn’t move, brow furrowed as he stares hard at the display in front of him. They’re at a local grocery store, stocking up so they won’t have to venture out again anytime soon, and Dean- Dean’s having a bit of a field day with it. He’s never really had the need or the opportunity to fully stock a kitchen before, and now that he’s finally got an excuse to do so-

“What’s the difference between an heirloom tomato and a roma tomato, though?”

Sam sighs at him, and Dean bites back a smile. Okay, so maybe a tiny part of him just enjoys being annoying, but he’s more vested in this than he really could’ve anticipated. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Obviously.” After staring at the different tomatoes for a few more seconds, Dean just grabs a couple of each. No harm in a little experimentation, right? “I guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves.”

He can almost hear Sam rolling his eyes, but when Dean looks up, his brother’s got a faint smile on his face. He’s the one in charge of pushing their cart right now, already filling up with all the different food Dean’s grabbed in his excitement to be here. “If you say so.”

Dean just grins at him, setting the bags of tomatoes gently alongside some other fruits and veggies before turning to lead the way once more. “I do say so. Now c'mon, we haven’t even hit the bakery section yet.”

Maybe it’s silly to be so happy about something as mundane as grocery shopping, but then again, maybe that’s exactly what’s so exciting about it. Dean’s on a shopping trip with his brother to buy food for their home, so he can cook or bake or do whatever other normal thing he wants to do. It fills a gap he’s never cared to notice before, and if he dives headlong into embracing that- well, there’s no harm in that, he thinks.

“Dean, they’ve got pie.”

Dean brightens and immediately grabs one of them off the shelf, only hesitating for a short moment. “Dude, I could make one of these. All I need is some ingredients and a recipe, right?”

Sam laughs, and Dean smiles, and yeah- this is the sort of thing he could get used to very quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	27. Eighty-Six: Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen usually never ventures this far from his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jensen's IG story (featuring a puppy filter because he's trying to kill me) made me want to do something... dog-themed. Wolf-themed. This is werewolf stuff and ABO and. It's mostly plot and not a lot of romance but I'll probably poke at it some more later. :?
> 
> (Omega!Jensen and alpha!Jared, for those who care.)

Jensen usually never ventures this far from his home. Though he’s still technically on pack territory, it’s unfamiliar terrain; a far border that they don’t bother to patrol very often. What that means, though, is that it’s exceptionally quiet out here, and that nobody from home will disturb him today. It’s exactly the sort of peace that Jensen’s in need of right now without sacrificing the safety of being on his home turf, so he continues on, trotting on ahead with no real destination in mind.

With the early signs of spring starting to show in the warm breeze and new foliage sprouting underfoot, it’s easy to let his mind wander, trying to stay grounded in his surroundings to allow the lingering stress to leave his body. Things have started to get worse back home, pressure mounting from all sides as Jensen continues on without a mate, well into his child-bearing years, and it’s too much for him to deal with, most days. He can’t stand the way that people look at him, like he’s a disappointment or a failure, or worse, like they pity him. Like maybe there’s something wrong with him that makes him this way, too bull-headed to find himself an alpha, or simply too undesirable for any to show interest.

Jensen tries to tell himself that none of it matters. He doesn’t care what others think about him; their opinions only really drive home his conviction that there’s nobody at home he would want to be with, anyways. He has no desire to compromise his own happiness for the sake of playing the good little omega, and if that means being a social outcast in his own pack-

Well. He’s doing just fine so far living with that reality.

Still, it’s easier to be out here prowling along the edge of their territory than it is to stay in such a stifling atmosphere back home. Jensen’s happier to be out in the fresh air, alone with his thoughts, and maybe he should spend more time like this after today. It’ll be good for him to get out more.

Distracted as he is, he’s barely got time to perk up his ears at the rustle of fur somewhere behind him before he’s being full-body tackled by another wolf. Jensen responds purely on instinct, and then they’re rolling around, both of them snarling as they each try to get the upper hand. Distantly, some part of Jensen’s brain registers the alpha scent, and more pressingly, that it’s an unfamiliar one- not somebody from his pack- and that’s worrying. He doesn’t have time to linger on it, though, because he might be fighting for his life here and this far away from the centre of pack territory, nobody will be by to help him any time soon.

Despite Jensen’s best efforts, he’s physically outmatched. The other wolf is bigger than he is, and stronger, too, and maybe with a little more warning and the opportunity to out-maneuver his opponent, Jensen would’ve stood a fighting chance. As it is, though, it’s not long before he’s pinned, the other wolf’s weight on his back and hot breath ruffling the fur at the back of his neck, threatening him into submission. Though he considers continuing to struggle, just to make it difficult, the other wolf’s teeth are too close to his throat for comfort, so Jensen goes still, huffing hard breaths into the dirt and wondering why he isn’t more scared.

He’s held there for a few seconds before the weight on his back eases up, and then- the alpha isn’t threatening him anymore. He’s still close, and still not letting Jensen get up, but his nose is working away now, sniffing all along Jensen’s neck like he’s looking for something. He probably is; it’s not terribly common to come across an omega of Jensen’s age who hasn’t been claimed, and as much as Jensen hates the thought, it’s probably at least a little bit interesting.

When the other wolf steps away, Jensen’s wary, not moving quite yet besides to peek over his shoulder to see what’s going on. The last thing he expects is to catch the alpha mid-shift; it’s a matter of seconds before he’s standing there on two legs in his human form and meeting Jensen’s eyes with a cheerful grin.

“Hi,” he says, and Jensen’s slow to get up, still cautious. After a tussle like that, and after winning- well, needless to say, the other wolf probably wouldn’t stand much of a chance if Jensen were to jump him right now. He’s still probably stronger than any human, but with speed and surprise on his side… “You’re from the local pack here, right?”

Jensen stays where he is, standing now and watching the man closely. A beat passes and the man sighs, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “C'mon, I’m not here to fight. I mean- maybe that wasn’t a good first impression, but seriously. I just want to talk.” He smiles again, looking hopeful, and Jensen doesn’t know what to do. “Please? Can we?”

For a few seconds, Jensen doesn’t move, silently debating with himself. To be fair, if the guy had bad intentions, he could’ve already done any number of things. Hell; he could’ve sunk his teeth into Jensen’s throat while they were fighting, but besides a vague ache in his muscles, Jensen remains unharmed. Besides, he’s got his own questions about what an unfamiliar wolf is doing on his pack’s lands, and it’s that thought that ultimately prompts him to shift as well, slowly straightening and crossing his arms over his chest, trying to assess the situation. “What do you want?”

“I’m Jared.” The guy- Jared, apparently- smiles once more, looking happier now that Jensen’s cooperating. “What’s your name?”

No sense in making this difficult. “Jensen.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jensen.” For a moment, Jared’s eyes drop a little lower than Jensen’s face, lingering near his collarbones. Jensen knows what he’s looking for, just like when he was a wolf; there’s no claiming bite, nothing to mark Jensen as a mated omega, and Jensen tries his damnedest not to feel self-conscious about it. “You live around here?”

“Yeah.” Jensen nods, then tries pressing again. “What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Well… that’s kind of a long story.” Jared’s smile turns a little sheepish, and he shrugs before stepping closer, only pausing when Jensen goes tense. “Hey, I’m not gonna try anything funny. I’m a nice guy. Promise.”

Jensen watches him closely, still distrustful, but the longer they stand here- well. It’s getting harder to ignore Jared’s scent, distinctly alpha and appealing in a way that it has no right to be. He considers holding his breath before stuffing that thought down and trying to focus again. He’s never had a real problem functioning around alphas before, and this shouldn’t be any different, right?

No matter how hard he tries to convince himself of that fact, when Jensen finally relaxes and allows Jared to move a little closer, he can already feel something settling in his mind, a seed being planted. Even as Jared asks if they can go back to his home, to meet the pack leader, to talk a little more- even as Jensen finds himself agreeing- there’s something there, trying damn hard to take root and pull Jensen’s attention away from the entire rest of the world.

There’s something about Jared that’s caught his attention in a way that no other alpha has, and it’s taking all of Jensen’s concentration not to give it any thought. He’s got enough to deal with without factoring in some strange new alpha wedging his way into his life, and this- this won’t lead to anything good.

He tells himself that he’s pent-up and his biology is fighting against his better judgement. It’s all the comfort he can manage to hold onto for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	28. Eighty-Seven: After Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen knows he isn’t supposed to be out past dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jensen's puppy filter IG story is haunting me, so... have this thing. Puppy-boy!Jensen and wolf-boy!Jared and it's just. Dumb. And silly. And nothing happens because I'm terrible at writing meeting scenes that aren't stupidly long.

Jensen knows he isn’t supposed to be out past dark. He’s heard plenty of scary stories about the sorts of creatures that wander the woods at night, the kinds of things that have claws and teeth and would happily prey on an unprotected pup. He could get hurt, or taken, or even killed, and as much as those thoughts make him want to turn and head back home right away…

He’s curious. He can’t help himself; he’s never met anybody who’s encountered one of these monsters, and a tiny part of him thinks that maybe they aren’t even real. Just stories made up to keep pups home and safe where their parents can keep track of them. And maybe his mother will worry, and his father will have some harsh words for him once he gets home, but…

Well. He’ll deal with that once he gets back.

For now, he continues to wander. He’s never really had a chance to explore the forest at night, and already he’s fascinated, ears perked up and feet bare to feel the soil between his toes. It’s different than it is in the daytime; quieter in some ways and so much louder in others. A whole new world of activity has begun with the sun dipping below the horizon, and Jensen thinks he could happily spend hours here just exploring it all, getting to know this familiar space that’s been cast in such an unfamiliar light.

For everything he’s seen, though, not one single monster has appeared from the shadows. Maybe they were all make-believe, after all.

Jensen’s content to accept that for now and continue his exploration, humming softly and picking his way between the trees. He can hear crickets, distantly, and the rustle of the wind in the branches overhead, and not a whole lot else. It’s comforting, and he feels safe, and maybe he should do this more often, even if he gets in trouble-

He stops, suddenly, as he becomes aware of another sound. It’s hard to pick up, even as his ears tilt towards it, but…

Footsteps. Barely noticeable, but quickly getting closer.

Jensen doesn’t have time to react- to turn and run back home, his heart suddenly hammering fast in his chest with the thought of what might be out there- before he spots the creature responsible.

The eyes are what he sees first. Reflecting the moonlight, dimly; a shade of gold that Jensen hasn’t seen before. When the creature moves closer, though- he doesn’t look quite as scary as Jensen’s expecting. No sharp claws that Jensen can see, and if he’s got fangs, then they’re hidden behind a cheerful smile. He’s dressed like Jensen is, with ratty jeans and bare feet, and his ears are perked up, too, a fluffy sort of dark brown.

Jensen isn’t entirely sure what to do.

“Hi!” The other boy speaks up, watching Jensen as he pauses where he is. “Are you lost?”

Though Jensen hesitates for a moment… this boy certainly doesn’t seem like a monster, or like he’s planning to attack Jensen. “No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I was just… exploring.”

The other boy hums, thoughtful, and as he moves a little closer and Jensen gets a better look at him- he’s not quite the same as Jensen is. A little sharper, maybe. Rougher. Maybe that’s just because he lives out here, though, instead of somewhere safe. “I’ve never seen anybody like you around here. What’s your name?”

“Jensen.” Maybe he should be more cautious right now- this boy is still a stranger, after all, and he could still be dangerous- but Jensen’s overwhelmed by his own curiosity, and he steps forward slowly, drawn in by the smile aimed his way. “Do you live here?”

“Yep.” The boy nods and grins again, points a thumb towards himself. “I’m Jared. D'you wanna be friends?”

The offer is a startling one, and Jensen blinks, not entirely sure how to respond. Of all the things he expected to encounter when he stayed out late like this… a friendly wolf hadn’t been one of them.

He can’t quite help himself.

“I… okay.” In the face of Jared’s smile, Jensen can’t help but return it, albeit tentatively. “But I have to go home soon. My parents are gonna get worried.”

Jared’s already nodding, and he wastes no time in closing the space between them, grabbing Jensen’s hand and starting to lead him along. “Then I guess we gotta make the most of the time we’ve got, huh?”

It’s a little overwhelming to be swept away like this, but Jared’s hand is warm and rough and there’s excitement clear in his voice, like maybe he’s never had somebody to spend time with like this before. Admittedly, Jensen feels exactly the same way, and his heart’s pounding hard now for a whole different reason, hurrying to keep up with Jared and find out what his new friend has to show him in the short time they have together.

Already, he catches himself wondering when he’ll be able to sneak out again. He thinks the consequences will be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	29. Eighty-Eight: Easter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know it’s Easter, right? Not Halloween?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small Easter-ish thing. Brothers and stuff. When does it take place?? WHO KNOWS

“You know it’s Easter, right? Not Halloween?”

Dean decides to ignore the skepticism in his brother’s voice as he adds another box of chocolates to their shopping cart. They’d needed to do groceries, anyways, and they’ve already got the basics covered, but as soon as he’d seen the array of pastel-coloured displays and plastic rabbits…

Well. He couldn’t help himself.

“No children are going to come wandering by our door looking for candy,” Sam tells him, and Dean rolls his eyes. Poor kid still doesn’t know how to have fun. “And if you eat all that chocolate yourself, Dean, I’m not gonna be the one to scrape you off the floor when you die of a sugar overdose.”

“It’s not  _all_ for me.” Admittedly, the thought is very tempting, and Dean has plenty of fond memories of Halloweens and Easters past, mostly spent stuffing himself with candy and then regretting it shortly afterwards. “And c'mon, Sammy, where’s your Easter spirit? You used to love this stuff.”

When he glances towards Sam, Sam seems to be biting back a smile. Not nearly as grumpy as he’s trying to appear. “I’m not a little kid, Dean. You can’t buy me with chocolate anymore.”

Dean purses his lips at that. “I think that just means that nobody’s tried to buy you yet with  _enough_ chocolate. Amateurs.”

That pulls a laugh out of Sam, and Dean grins, happy to continue down the aisles and pick up a few more treats along the way. Some festive marshmallows, some chocolate bunnies, and even half a dozen mini pastel cupcakes that give Dean some ideas for later. With everything he wants to get, he starts towards the checkout counters, talking to Sam again as they go.

“You think Charlie’s free?” He’s going down a list in his head, friends and allies who could use an excuse to relax. “And Jody? Kevin and his mom, too… Cas, obviously. Oh, and Garth… guess we’ve got some phone calls to make.”

Sam softens as Dean continues mumbling to himself, and together, they start calling around, inviting everybody over for a little celebration.

“Why not, right?” Dean shrugs on their way back home, candy safely loaded up in the back and engine rumbling around them on the way down the road. “‘Tis the season.”

There’s no harm in taking a little time to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	30. Eighty-Nine: Silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn’t think he’s ever owned anything made of silk before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild spoilers for 13.16: Scoobynatural.
> 
> Dean being super proud of his ascot was just very important to me. He's so soft and good.

Dean doesn’t think he’s ever owned anything made of silk before. It’s too expensive and too impractical for the life he lives; god knows it would only be a matter of time before a nice shirt or tie would become ruined with dirt and blood. He’s never really felt a need to mourn that loss; sure, he’ll linger a little longer when a girl is wearing something delicate and soft, but he can live without owning any of it for himself. It’s just one of a long list of luxuries that he can’t have for himself.

But then there’s the ascot.

Okay, so maybe Fred isn’t all that bad. That’s the impression that Dean walks away with, and- hell, Daphne must see something in him, right? And maybe that’s what drives Dean to buy the thing, or he wants something to remember the whole, crazy experience, or maybe it’s just an excuse to finally get himself something nice. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Where’d you even get that?” Sam seems to find it entertaining, at least, that same crinkle in his brow that Dean remembers so clearly from the cartoon. “And… why?”

Dean shrugs, squinting at himself in the mirror as he ties the ascot in place. He can’t help but take his time; it’s brand new and one of the softest things he’s ever touched, let alone worn. His fingertips feel rough as they catch on the delicate fabric, and he hesitates to even tie it into a knot at all, worried that he’ll wrinkle it. Still, he eventually does it, eyes fixed on the bright red against his skin and spending probably far too much time in front of the mirror.

“Dean?”

Dean blinks, snapping out of the moment to actually look towards his brother. Sam’s leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows raised. “We have to go. Catch the bad guy? All that stuff?”

“Uh- right.” Dean clears his throat, shuffling in place. “Yeah, let’s hit the road.”

Sam watches him for another moment before nodding, and he straightens up before turning to head off. Dean starts after him, only pausing long enough to reach up and touch the ascot again, rub it gently between his fingers. It feels good against his skin, a gentle reminder of its presence every time he swallows, and it’s… it’s nice.

He shakes it off when Sam calls for him again, sounding impatient. He’ll have plenty of time for this later. Right now, it’s time to solve this mystery.

(And, as it now happens, to look  _damn_  good doing it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	31. Ninety: Cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can you pass me that icing bag?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean does some Easter baking. Sam is baffled, but impressed.

“Can you pass me that icing bag?”

Sam’s not entirely sure what he’s walked into when he finds his brother in the kitchen. The whole place is a mess, piles of dirty bowls crowding the sink and every surface seeming to have accumulated a fine dusting of flour. Dean himself isn’t much better off; the apron he’s wearing looks like it might be a lost cause, and there’s a glob of something that looks like cake batter stuck to his cheek. He doesn’t look like he minds, though, hunched over the counter where Sam gets a small peek at a few trays of…

“Are those cupcakes?”

“Maybe.” Dean glances his way, holding his hand out expectantly. “Icing bag? The one with the white icing.”

Sam nods slowly, spotting the object in question sitting on the table and moving to pick it up and deliver it to his brother. Dean hums gratefully before turning back to his work. They  _are_ cupcakes, by the look of things, a couple dozen of them, and Dean’s just started meticulously topping them off with the icing.

“So… cupcakes.”

Dean hums again, not looking up as Sam leans against the counter beside him. “Cupcakes,” he repeats. “Like cakes, but tiny. Any more questions?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

“Easter. Duh.”

Now that Sam looks more closely, he spots some other things lined up on the counter beside Dean’s cupcakes. A couple more bags of icing with different colours. Tiny chocolate eggs. “Right. Got it.”

Dean nods, absent, and Sam just watches him work for a few minutes. He’s doing a surprisingly good job- surprising in that Sam doesn’t think he’s ever seen his brother decorate a cupcake before, let alone several of them- and he’s focusing with the sort of intensity that he usually reserves for emergency first-aid.

Another question pops into Sam’s head, so he asks it. “What kind of cupcakes are they?”

Dean responds without looking up, nearly finished with the white icing, by the look of things. “Some of them are chocolate, some of them are confetti, and some of them are carrot.”

The last one’s a surprise, to say the least, and Sam raises his eyebrows. “Carrot? Carrot cupcakes?”

“Easter. Rabbits. Carrot cupcakes.” Dean says it like it’s obvious, and then once he’s emptied out the entire bag of icing, he looks up, eyes lingering on Sam for a moment. “And you like carrot cake, right? It’s like a vegetable in dessert form.”

The words combined with the look on Dean’s face- searching, maybe, almost cautious, kind of hopeful- make Sam smile, something feeling warm in his chest. “Not sure I’d call it a vegetable, but yeah. I love carrot cake.”

Just like that, Dean brightens, cracking a smile of his own and nodding as he turns back to his work. “Good. Then we’ll be all set to celebrate.”

Sam spends the next little while just watching Dean get lost in doing something he loves. It’s a nice change of pace, and when he finally gets to try one of the finished cupcakes later- well, he has to admit. As far as vegetables go, this one is pretty damn good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
